


Why do I always get into trouble?

by GiftedLookerBee



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiftedLookerBee/pseuds/GiftedLookerBee
Summary: On hiatus





	Why do I always get into trouble?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Pokemon I do not own. I own the main character only (so far) Kudos to Umodin for inspiring this self insert. His profile: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6183781/Umodin  
> P.S. This is basically prologue, and a bit of intro to my character, and not much pokemon.  
> P.P.S. This is my first fanfic.

I found myself on an island beach, with only the sea, the sand and greenery around me. How I got here? Let me explain.  
I was an undergrad in MIT, and on my way for my first degree: A bachelor in computer sciences. I don’t really consider myself as a nerd, but me and computers go a long way back. I learned how to use python when I was 8, created my first game, a stealth game that sometimes stealth was optional. (Congrates if you got the reference) and built an AI for my science project.  
I was also a philanthropist, giving back to the community. I donated a lot of money to charity and the homeless and making youtube videos about it, along with hosting other competitions that are generally fun with high stakes, like with 10k on the line, but well, what else was I supposed to do with my earnings? However, I had gained quite some subscribers, a cool 10 million, and now everyone is pesting me to make a new video each week, but I could not do that. I had to study after all!  
“Man, it’s really tough doing all of this… Juggling being a youtuber and a scholar, I really don’t think I have the time for both. Guess I’ll tell my viewers that I may go on hiatus and leave youtubing for a year or so, so as to finish my degree, then come back. Hmm, that actually sounds like a good thing to do,” I muttered to myself as I researched and thought on deep learning for AI, and how to apply it to other things like lottery.  
The year end breaks were just around the corner and time passed by very quickly. I was a lazy person, always looking forward to the holidays then squander it away by making youtube videos instead of taking a break. Ironic, isn’t it? This year however, was different, in the sense that I actually had a plan in mind and know where to go. I’ve booked the tickets and everything- I was ready to go and relax on the beaches of Australia and watch kangaroos.  
I was definitely nervous when I was on the plane. I would be taking the economy class as usual because I prefer it to business class. The food is simpler, the entertainments are the same, and business is too soft for my own comfort, which is ironic again. I am a very ironic person. I had sent the message that I would be taking the next year off because I needed to concentrate on my papers and research, and youtubing was taking too much time. What I was nervous for was the backlash that may happen. There are salty people, and there are nice people out there. Who knows what people might think of my decisions? Those were my thoughts as the plane slowly taxied down the runway, going faster, faster and faster and faster…  
Midway though the flight, I had a foreboding thought: What if the plane crashed? But well, I brushed it aside and continued with my work, an entire report on the efficiency of my new formula to crack prime numbers. Sipping on my Coke, I smiled. I had finally done it, and I must say it’s quite well written. All of a sudden, my seatmate pulled out a knife. “Wait… STOP!” I yelled, but it was too late. He had already dashed down the hallway, with a few other people also pulling out different weapons, threatening to take our lives if we did not comply with their comments.  
I put my hands on my head and complied with his commands along with the rest of the passengers, seeing how he was the person that was armed. A brave stewardess tried to fight back by taking off her high heels, but he causally stabbed her, causing blood to start flowing from her chest. All of us watched in horror as she choked on her own blood and passed on. Everyone looked with fear at the madman, praying that they are not the next victims. I knew I had to do something fast, or else we would die or be held hostage. Charging forward, I caught the thug surprised. I knocked him back and socked him in the stomach, causing him to fall forward. There was a thud and the killer stopped moving. “Oh god, I killed somebody…” I said as I looked at the dead body. Pulling him up, I realised that he fell onto the stewardess high heels, and stabbed him through his eye. However, knowing that there were larger problems then the dead body, I took the knife from him and went on to the next part of the cabin, determined to control this plane lest I die.  
I had some prior military training when I was still back in Singapore, doing National Service earlier because MIT wanted me as soon as possible. National Service, or NS, is basically training you to be a soldier as Singapore did not have the manpower to have a full time military, and thus relies on its citizens to defend Singapore. Normally everyone was supposed to go at 18, but seeing that I had special circumstances, I was allowed to go NS 2 years earlier.  
I surged forward, from the economy class to the business class, where there was another person. This time, he was armed with another knife. We took stabs at each other and mostly missed, but while he was distracted by me, the passengers in the business class tackled him to the ground. “Thanks,” I said, before advancing to first class, where thankfully there was nobody there, before storming the cockpit. There, I found that both the copilot and the captain were dead, a bloody trail across their chest and full of stab wounds. A man who was wearing a sucide vest was there, locking the autopilot. “No…” I said, seeing the coordinates. “Yes. JIHAD WILL WIN! FOR ISIS!” The man said, before detonating the sucide vest. A key feature of airplanes was that sometimes, their CPU was not in the cockpit and protected under 2 layers of steel in the back of the plane. I barely had the time to shield myself before the explosion hit me.  
I was shot out of the broken window and started free falling. Wind picked up and the ocean looked increasingly larger. Fear struck me as I realised that I was about to die. My rational mind told me to try and be aerodynamic but the fear was so strong that I could not move. Wind rushed around me and I felt almost weightless. Seeing the sea rushing towards you at almost 180 km an hour, I felt hopeless. Then, an idea flashed into my mind.  
“Zeus! Odin! Jupiter! God! Arceus or whatever god is out there listening, please, save me! Or at the very least, don’t let my sacrifice go to waste!”I said just before impact. And darkness consumed me.

Bloopers:  
Midway though the flight, I had a foreboding thought: What if the plane crashed? But well, I brushed it aside and continued with my work, an entire report on the efficiency of my new formula to crack prime numbers. Sipping on my Coke, I smiled. I had finally done it, and I must say it’s quite well written. All of a sudden, my seatmate pulled out a knife. “Wait… STOP!” I yelled, but it was too late. He had already dashed down the hallway, with a few other people also pulling out different weapons, threatening to take our lives if we did not comply with their comments.  
I pulled out my SCAR PDW, and shot all of the terrorists. I had a permit and was a SCP intern, actually heading to Site 19. “Must have been those Chaos Insurgency bastards again.” I muttered as I reloaded, “Everyone stay down. I’ll recover control of the ship, before typing a message to my mentors that I needed to regain control of the airplane. I made my way to the cockpit, and kicked opened the door. “Please don’t hurt me…” The captain said, but it was too late. The thug slit the poor captain’s throat. Horrified by this, I pumped a few rounds into the man’s chest, and he fell. The End.  
[End of Chapter 1]


End file.
